


Waiting on the edge

by lorinhazuzu



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Christmas fic, F/M, M/M, angsty, but not really, kind of, larry stylinson - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-14
Updated: 2013-02-28
Packaged: 2017-11-21 03:32:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/592961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lorinhazuzu/pseuds/lorinhazuzu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It wasn’t until Harry got together with Taylor, that things really went downhill.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Downhill

It wasn’t until Harry got together with Taylor, that things really went downhill.

Harry and Louis had always been close. Harry knew that Louis knew that there was something more than friendship between them. He was just too stubborn to admit it. Instead he’d gone from one long term relationship to another in a matter of weeks, choosing to forget the very thing Harry would always remember. That they’d kissed.

It hadn’t been a drunk kiss either, or one done because of a dare. It’d been sweet and tentative, and Harry had thought it was one of the type of kisses that meant something, but then Louis had greeted him the next day just as he always did, completely avoiding, or just simply forgetting about what Harry had though was a turning point for them.

A few days later Louis had showed up with his new girlfriend, Eleanor, so maybe the kiss hadn’t meant as much to Louis as it did to Harry.

And for a whole year things had gone well, for Louis at least. He had a lovely, sweet girlfriend, the greatest best-friend and a quickly escalating career.

Harry on the other hand, hated it a little bit. He knew what Louis was doing, keeping him there, always, as some kind of plan b or fall back option. It wasn’t until that option was taken away from him, that the situation really sunk in. And then he’d snapped, and he’d become vicious and snarky, behaving more like a jealous boyfriend than he’d care to admit, and than Harry thought he had the right to.

There was shouting. And name calling, and Harry had never been so angry, so tired and frustrated as he shouted at Louis, “you’re a selfish prick Louis, why can’t be happy that I finally found someone?”

“Have you been living under a rock, that whore’s had about twelve different boyfriends this year. She’ll just break your heart!”

And it was stupid, but it was that little patronizing tone that’d really set Harry off.

“Get out. Get out, get out, get out!” he’d shouted, voice ripping painfully from his throat.

Louis had thrown him a look full of contempt, before leaving; slamming the door behind him so hard Harry was sure everyone on that same hotel floor had heard.

Harry barely flinched at the loud sound, he didn’t cry, he barely reacted, he just walked towards his bed, shoulders slumped with defeat and exhaustion. He stared unblinkingly at the ceiling until everything went dark, and he left consciousness behind.

                                       *

Louis had stalked out of the room, hands clenched, and slammed his own door behind him, just for the sake of it.

It wasn’t until he saw Eleanor, sitting at the edge of his bed and giving him a sympathetic look that he felt that stupid guilty feeling churning in his gut. Louis hated that feeling.

“you okay?” she asked, and Louis took a deep breath letting it out slowly, together with the anger coursing in his body that made him feel electric.

“fine. Just..” he didn’t finish, but she nodded anyway, as if she understood. But she didn’t.

“C’mon then, bed.” She patted the spot on the bed next to her.

“So, Lou I was thinking I have a friend who lives here, do you mind if I go spend this last couple of days with her?” Louis paused, his trousers half way down his legs, to look up at her in surprise.

“Course not El. You don’t have to spend all your time here, I know it must get boring after a while.”

Eleanor smiled, and he switched off the lights, joining her in bed. She was out minutes later, but Louis stayed awake, staring unseeing in the dark. No matter what he did, eyes open or closed, all he could see were those pictures. Pictures of Harry and her. Smiling at each other, holding hands. He could almost feel his blood flowing faster in his veins, anger pumping with it, and he hated her, absolutely hated her, for taking Harry away from him, for making him smile, when that was his job, for holding his hand when she had no right to. Those were his hands. His.

He tightened his hold on the sleeping Eleanor, hoping that it would help dispel those thoughts and bring him back to reality, but when he fell asleep, his sight was still filled with images of Harry smiling at someone that wasn’t him.

                                             *

Harry walked downstairs the next morning to join the others for breakfast. All five of them (including Danielle) were situated on a table, their manager and security crew just one table away, but what surprised him the most was the fact that Eleanor wasn’t there. She was everywhere lately.

They were all in silence, the tension was palpable, and at once, Harry regretted not asking for his breakfast to be brought up to his room.

He took a sip of his coffee and tucked into the breakfast that had already been ordered for him. He could very well see the awkward, confused glances the others were exchanging. Harry and Louis weren’t ones to fight, not with each other anyways, and when they did fight, they were small silly arguments that were solved minutes later with an apology and a hug, which very obviously wasn’t something that was about to happen then.

Louis watched him, eyes trained on him as if he was prey, he noticed how he avoided everyone’s eyes, eyes set on his plate, he noticed how he was shoving food in his mouth, chewing a lot more quickly than he ever did, and it made him tick, because he knew exactly why he was rushing, and he usually didn’t like the idea of antagonizing people, but his heart was beating with fear, and it made him feel angry. Angry and trapped and cornered. He didn’t like that Harry made him feel that way, that he could make him feel so much, and temptation was just so much easier to give in to.

“Why the rush Harry?” he asked, voice dripping with false sweetness.

Harry looked up at Louis, surprised that Louis would even talk to him, but his eyes narrowed as soon as they met Louis’, the glint of malice shining clearly inside the blue irises.

“Louis – “

“Going out with that bi– “

“Don’t you dare” Harry cut him off, fury invading him as he stood up, hands spread out on the table, because maybe he didn’t love Taylor, maybe he never would, but Taylor was nice and she was fun, and most importantly she was his friend, and he wouldn’t let anyone go around insulting her in front of him. Not even Louis.

“Why do you have to do this?”

“I’m not doing anything” Louis shrugged carelessly, unrepentant, and Harry’s hands tightened into fists on the table, and he hit it with a loud sound, uncaring of the audience they were gathering.

“Yes you are.” He said through clenched teeth, staring at the fake innocent eyes that were staring right back at him, “you know what you’re doing, and you know why you’re doing it. You’re just too much of a coward to admit to it” he spat out, walking out in long, angry strides and ignoring the protests coming from the others, and Liam calling out his name.

                                        *

Taylor was surprised to see him, her face showed it clearly when she opened her door to find Harry on the other side.

“Harry! You’re a bit early” He was 45 minutes early, but they don’t mention it.

He entered the room quickly, flopping down on the bed horizontally.

“I’ll just go finish getting ready then” There was obviously something wrong, but all she did was give him an encouraging smile before disappearing inside the room.

Harry closed his eyes and took a deep breath, forcefully pushing all thoughts of Louis away

“So, ready for an amazing day of Christmas shopping?” Taylor asked a few minutes later when she re-emerged from the bathroom, her hair looking distinctively less ruffled and a subtle layer of make up on her face that Harry knew wasn’t there a few minutes earlier.

They spent the whole day outside, looking for presents. Harry only really had the boys to buy presents for, surprisingly. He had already bought presents for his family and his friends back home.

It took him a while to find things for the boys, Taylor helped, which was a good thing, but half way through the day he still didn’t have anything for Louis, he didn’t even know if he would get him anything, not after their fight. He didn’t understand why Louis was behaving like this, it was like he was doing this on purpose.

Louis knew the hold he had had over Harry and he was using it, fingers clawing into Harry’s skin, into the indentations of his rib cage, and heels sinking into the floor, refusing to let go.

It was a tough line to walk; one minute he was being pulled in, only to be pushed away straight after, the next minute he was finally, finally gathering the courage to move on only to be pulled back in. He was continuously afraid he was going to lose his balance, but he needn’t have bothered, he was stuck there, Louis would never let him walk away. Louis didn’t want him, but he also didn’t want anyone else to have him.

It was so frustrating, so unfair. There were nights where he’d bite his pillow hard so

he wouldn’t scream.

He didn’t want to go back to the hotel just yet, but Taylor had something to do in the evening, so reluctantly he went back, wishing for the first time ever that Louis would be out, out with Eleanor or anybody else, just as long as he wasn’t there.

*


	2. Part 2

Louis wasn’t out with Eleanor. Eleanor had left early that morning, and he in turn had spent all day pacing up and down Harry’s room. He had left the others at breakfast still at a loss about what was happening between the two of them, and had used Harry’s key – he always had a spare one, whether he was sharing with him or not – to get in his room to wait for Harry to get back.

He waited, paced some more. Angry energy packed inside his body, he almost vibrated with it.

He couldn’t do it. Couldn’t admit to himself how much of an idiot he’d been, for so long, how stubborn. All he could think was of how much it had cost him.

Harry.

He’d been so intent on liking her, Eleanor, so determined to be what everybody else expected, that he’d overlooked the obvious, and now it seemed that his mistake, his stupid, stupid mistake had lost him Harry.

His muscles tightened and his heart clenched with wild adrenaline at the thought, because now Harry was with Taylor, and he seemed happy with Taylor, and now he wasn’t there whenever Louis wanted him to be.

Selfish? Maybe. But he couldn’t lose Harry.

His jealousy swirled and coiled inside him, just as the door to the hotel room opened.

Louis whirled around to look at him, noticing just barely how tired he looked. The door was just about closed when it started.

“Where were you?” he asked, voice clipped.

With a sigh, Harry ignored him, moving towards the bed.

Louis didn’t like that. He didn’t like being ignored, and he especially didn’t like being ignored by Harry. It wasn’t something that had happened before either. Ever.

“Harry.”

They could both hear the tension in his voice, and no matter how much Louis was struggling to contain himself, Harry knew he would snap soon.

The explosion however, came a lot earlier than he would’ve expected. Louis couldn’t deal with all of this; he’d lost Harry to that stupid blonde singer, he’d barely seen him for the last few days and now to top it off, Harry was ignoring him. Pushing away the thought of how beautiful the boy looked, laying down on his stomach, eyes closed, he started on him, voice rising as he spoke.

“Are you just going to pretend I’m not here?!” He stalked towards him, hands reaching for Harry’s shoulder and giving him a firm shake, “Harry!”

Eyes snapping open, Harry stared at him. He was tired, he was, and he didn’t want to fight with Louis again.

“Lou, stop it” he mumbled, trying to break free from Louis hold, having his fingers sinking, digging deeper into skin instead as Louis refused to let him go. They were back to the familiar push-and-pull.

“You can’t do this to me Harry”, there was a strange sort of desperation mingling in his tone, but Harry was suddenly too angry to give it much thought.

“I can’t do this to you?!” his voice rose, “You’ve been doing this to me for months!”

Louis blinked taken aback and Harry watched in derision as he unknowingly took a step back.

“See, that’s what you do” he accused, “you run away, whenever we talk about this, whenever we come even close to talking about this”

“Harry, that’s, that’s not – “

“It is!” He cried out as he started walking angrily around the room, “you’re too stubborn. Too determined to be what everybody expects you to be, that you can’t even understand that maybe you don’t like your stupid, perfect girlfriend as much as you say you do. That you could be living a completely different life than what you’re living now. If you, if you’d just admit that you have feelings for me! Your male best friend” he ended bitterly, out of breath and completely bare in front of Louis for what was the first time.

“Haz…” Louis started, but he didn’t finish, not knowing what to say.

Harry already knew how this would end, but it didn’t stop him from trying. Louis fidgeted. Took another step back.

“Lou,” voice failing him again, he reached out for Louis, but he was already walking out, expression pained as he took a last look at Harry over his shoulder before closing the door softly behind him.

Hands closing around thin air, Harry stumbled forwards, only a few seconds too late.

He lowered his hands slowly; Louis had walked out on him.

“Louis” he croaked, eyes burning, he went backwards until the back of his knees hit the bed.

He tumbled down, throwing his arms over his face to hide his tears from the watchful walls. He had finally pushed Louis too far.

He always knew that Louis would hurt him one day, and he wasn’t left disappointed.

*

They have one more day to go before going back home for the Christmas holidays.

Not for the normal reasons, Harry wished it was less, because the next day is actually more awkward than the day before.

Harry had unsuccessfully tried to sneak out of breakfast (something the five of them always tried to do together), but had been ambushed by a yet unsuspecting Niall.

As he sat in what he thought was the heaviest silence there’s ever been, he wonders whether Niall regrets his decision of dragging Harry down to have breakfast with them.

In what was sadly becoming routine, he kept his eyes on his food, shoulders tense and hunched. He was right across from Louis; Eleanor next to him, because that was just his luck really, he thought sarcastically.

Feeling someone’s gaze on him, he looked up quickly, eyes setting on the blue ones staring right at him. He looked away just as fast, because he could feel his control slipping away from him, and looking at Louis didn’t help.

His eyes met another pair of blue ones, this time the shape was rounder, the colour lighter, and the boy jerked his head in a way that clearly asked ‘what’s going on?’

He swallowed, hurt and confusion tasting bitter on his tongue. He didn’t have an answer for Niall. He didn’t really have answers for anything.

It was only when Louis’ foot bumped into his under the table that he was suddenly done. He stood up abruptly, drawing the other’s eyes to him, but he noticed, heart beating frantically, that Louis didn’t look at him, eyes pointedly staring down at his fidgeting hands.

Harry was just so tired of mixed signals.

He cleared his throat, gathering his self-control and pushing away the urge to cry.

“Erm, I’m…I’m going upstairs to take a shower”

The others nodded, exchanging looks, though Harry caught Liam’s pointed look, eyes focused on Harry’s hair which was still damp from the shower he took a mere half an hour ago.

He walked away self-consciously, feeling their eyes on his back. He didn’t know if Louis was watching, but if he was Harry never found out.

*

Louis escaped into the safety of his room a few minutes later, dreading the moment he’d have to come out.

He stared at his trembling hands in disgust, hating the fact that what Harry had said was true, and wondering how he’d managed to make such a mess of things.

He wondered about lots of things. Things like what the hell he’s been doing with his life, and when exactly he had become a person with no face, adaptable to everybody else’s wants except for his own.

Logically he knew that he would be a lot happier if he were to let go of everything; the pressure… the expectations…The girlfriend.

With a loud groan, he covered his face with his hands, because how had he managed to make such a mess of things?

 

Hours later, he ended up leaving the room just as confused as he was when he’d gone in.

*

The rest of the day wasn’t any better than breakfast had been.

Hurt, Harry avoided any sort of contact with Louis, eyes stinging and heart clenching every time he’d look up and see her.

The end of the day couldn’t come soon enough.

The others wanted to go out, as it was their last night together for the next couple of weeks, but with an excuse he knew nobody believed, he hid away in his room for the rest of the night.

*

He saw the way Harry avoided him, eyes never meeting his, feeling more distant than when they were in separate countries.

Louis didn’t think he could take much more of this. Harry and him had always been close; best friends. It was rare for a day to go by without them having any sort of contact, without talking to each other in some way, but now Harry barely even looked at him, let alone speaks to him, and Louis didn’t like not having Harry there, always.

He sighed. His own feelings frustrated him. He hated how Harry made him feel when he was close; it was too much emotion, too much happiness and excitement taking over him, and it made him feel like he wasn’t in control, but he was starting to hate this even more: not having Harry close. He didn’t think he could feel worse, but it was miserable, not having Harry there to smile at him or to share private jokes with, and the worst bit was that he still felt like he had no control over anything.

He watched as Harry hightailed out of sight at the end of the day, ignoring the questioning looks he was getting. He had never had a fight with Harry, not like this, and never one that lasted as long as this one.

It was the third night in a row where Harry didn’t wish him good night before going to bed. It was something Harry’s always done, be it by text, or call, or in person, and it was only when Louis found himself struggling to fall asleep that night, noticing that the weight of the girl sleeping on him seems suffocating instead of comforting, that he realised how much he missed that little quirk of Harry’s.

He’s known what he should’ve done for a long time now, but he had settled, content enough with the way his life was.

Harry had finally given him the push he needed.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally finished. OOOph. Anyway, took me a while to get this one written, but I quite like it, hope you all do too :)

Harry was long gone by the time the others were awake. 

They did this sometimes, travelled separately in order to attract less attention; this time Harry was lucky enough to be the first one to go.

He settled in his seat, trying very hard not to think, hoping the loud music would cover the sound of his wild running thoughts.

The flight was long, but Harry didn’t sleep, and by the time the plane landed he was absolutely exhausted. The only consolation, he thought, was that he was very close now. He wondered whether hugging his mum for some long minutes would make him feel better.

Probably a little, he decided.

His mum was waiting outside the door before he could even get out of the car. She welcomed him home with open arms, smiling and crying at the same time.

Harry hugged her for a few endless minutes.

*

Louis knocked on Harry’s door more times than he cared to count, but it was only ten minutes later when he was told that Harry had already left, and with a burst of anger he kicked his door, remembering the travelling arrangements a little too late.

Harry was gone, and he probably wouldn’t see him again for another two weeks.

*

It hadn’t been a whole day yet, but she knew. Harry wasn’t really one to hide how he felt, he didn’t like doing it, and he wasn’t able to do it, too transparent for his own good.

She didn’t wait for him to come to her, instead she sat him down and asked quite bluntly what was wrong.

Harry sighed, looking at her; there was something in her eyes that told him she already knew what this was going to be about.  
“I finished it with Taylor” was what he started with, but he was stalling, and if the obvious raise of her eyebrows was anything to go by, then she knew it too.  
“You did?” She went along with for now, but Harry didn’t doubt she’d be stirring him towards the ‘right’ direction soon.  
“Yeah” he shrugged. He had called her before leaving. Not the ideal he knew, but it was hard talking to somebody when they were in different countries most of the time. He knew however, that he couldn’t keep stringing her along. For her part, she hadn’t really seemed very surprised.  
“Wasn’t going well?” Anne asked casually, as if they were just merely making small talk, a preamble to the real conversation.  
“It was going alright” and that was as far as small talk could go.

She raised her eyebrows at him expectantly, and he knew he couldn’t stall any longer.  
“I…I had a fight with Louis. I told him how I feel.” He decided to get it over with.  
“And…?” She frowned.  
“And nothing.”  
She gave him a sympathetic look and didn’t ask him anymore questions.

Days at home were always a treat now, quite the rare one actually, and though he wasn’t the happiest, he did enjoy his time at home, spending time with his family smiling at the loving banter between Robin and Anne, and Gemma’s crazy stories.

There were times though, when he was left alone, times where he drifted off, tucked under warm blankets and staring at the bright flames of the fire.

His sister confronted him on Christmas Eve. He had woken up feeling more melancholic than ever, and deciding that enough was enough, she cornered him after lunch, arching her eyebrows expectantly, much like Anne had done.

So he told her everything, from start to end, even though she already knew most parts of it.

*

Louis didn’t spend the 24th at home. He stayed long enough for breakfast before leaving again, scrambling up from his seat and apologizing as he said that he had to go. He was sure Harry’s name came out of his lips at some point, but in his frantic, eager dash for the door, he didn’t notice much, including the little gleam in his mother’s and older sister’s eyes.

He settled in the driver’s seat before realising he didn’t have his car keys. He was just about to jump out of the car, smacking himself on the forehead, when he heard the sound of keys jiggling.

He found Lottie outside his window, playing with the keys and grinning from ear to ear.  
“You going to see Harry?” she asked, even though by the expression on her face, she knew exactly where he was going.

Louis sighed, rubbing his face up and down tiredly, “yes”. Her grin widened as she handed him his keys.  
“don’t kill yourself and – “ she cut off, giving him a serious look, and he finally turned to face her properly, attention caught.  
“don’t mess it up again”

Louis smiled, nodded, and hit the pedal.

*

Harry spent the afternoon helping his mum with dinner. He told her a bunch of stories about the boys, though they were both careful to avoid the subject of Louis.

Dinner took a while, both because the four of them spent more time snacking on what they were cooking, and because they kept getting distracted, their conversation getting more interesting than the work at hand.

It was late by the time the food was ready, but the time spent together with his family was what Harry was looking for, so none of them minded it.

They had moved back to the living room when they decided that they were all too full of the food they snuck in to have dinner then. They turned on the telly and put on an old Christmas movie, it was one of Harry’s favourite parts of Christmas: the Christmas movies.

A couple of hours later they all started mingling upstairs to get ready for dinner, and deciding to do the same, (if Gemma actually managed to get ready before him, his family would never let him forget it) Harry struggled out of the couch.

Just before he reached the stairs the doorbell rang.

*

The way there felt a lot longer that day, especially because whenever he went to Harry’s family home, Harry was always there by his side, singing his stupidly romantic, stupidly depressing songs, or chatting happily and without stopping for hours.

Frustrated, he hit the stirring wheel angrily and ended up having to pull over for a few minutes to calm down. He ran his hands through his hair, his quiff was long gone, and his fringe laid messy (not exactly unusual) on his forehead.

When he finally got back on the road, he docked his Ipod in, smiling at the song that came on: it was Harry’s favourite.

He listened to it on a loop until he reached Holmes Chapel. Then he turned it off, nervous excitement running through him, fingers tapping the wheel without any pattern, except for the quick tu-dum-tu-dum that mirrored the trapped organ beating inside him.

He parked his car carelessly outside Harry’s home, jumping out only to be stopped by the seatbelt he forgot to undo. Cursing under his breath he finally managed to get out of the car and actually made sure to lock it.

He turned around to face the house and took a deep breath, a blurry mass of vapour coming out and reminding him that it must be a lot warmer inside. He started towards the house, stopping in front of the door and resting his hand against it, insecure thoughts getting to him. He stopped to consider his options: he could turn around now and forget all of this, or he could go in to talk to Harry. What scared him the most however, were the consequences of said talk. There were only two: either Harry gave him another chance or he didn’t.

Pushing those thoughts away he decided that the one thing he couldn’t do was hurt Harry. Not again. Whatever happened would be Harry’s decision. Mind filled with Harry, he stared at the door that separated them and realised then, just how much he missed Harry.

Throwing all scared thoughts out of his head, he rang the doorbell, wanting suddenly, to just see Harry.

The door was thrown open enthusiastically, but the person Louis wished so much to see was not the one to do so. Instead he was left starring at eyes just like Harry’s, that widened immediately at the sight of him.

*

“Go on up and get ready H, I’ll get it” Anne told Harry, kissing the top of his head as she went. Smiling Harry ran up the stairs in twos, quickly hopping into the bathroom for a shower.

He sang along to the song stuck in his head all day, remembering the days when he had sung in this same shower, hoping and waiting for the day he’d be able to do it in front of thousands of people.

He got out shortly (for him anyway) and made sure to put on one of those really, really Christmas-y jumpers on top of his black jeans, because he had always found them funny, unlike Gemma, who always hated them.

He jumped down the stairs in a better mood than he’d been all week, though his speed lessened as he heard more voices in the kitchen than he should.

Straining his ears, he started towards the kitchen, dreading to believe what he knew was true. Good mood gone, he stopped by the kitchen door, suspicions confirmed by the form of Louis sitting at the counter with the rest of his family.

*

Louis looked up immediately, sensing the presence of the boy, vision swimming with the sight of him, the sometimes-wavy-sometimes-curly brown hair, and angular face, long nose and full lips. The eyes, the round, bright green eyes he had missed so much, staring right back at him.

He saw surprise in them, hurt and maybe a hint of anger too, but most of all he saw confusion. It was in the way his eyes stared at him only to flicker around the room, lost, just to go back and meet Louis’ eyes again.

 

“Um,” Harry started, trailing off when he realised he didn’t quite know what to say in such a situation.  
“Look H, Louis came to spend Christmas with us!” Anne told him, grinning as if he hadn’t told her what happened between the two of them just a couple of days ago.  
“Come on, everything’s on the table already” she ushered them towards the dinning room, and still shocked into silence, Harry moved slowly behind the others.

He was just about to sit down next to Gemma when he heard Louis’ voice for the first time since their fight.  
“Come sit with me Harry?” Louis looked nervously at the frozen Harry, fingers still tapping away on his knees.

The request was familiar; nothing Louis hadn’t said a dozen times before, but there was a difference between before and now. Before Louis never doubted that Harry’s answer would be yes, now he waited anxiously, eagerly watching as Harry paused, hesitating and wondering what the hell he was doing, before slowly making his way around the table.

Nobody commented on Louis’ very audible relieved sigh, watching almost as eager as Louis, as Harry moved, still cautious, to sit next to Louis.

The tension in the room faded, as the rest of the occupants breathed out, only to breath in again, surprised at Harry’s yelp and the loud sound of the chair screeching as it was dragged by Louis, so that it was closer to him – Harry included.

Satisfied, if not slightly sheepish, Louis smiled at Harry who stared back dumfounded at Louis.

There was definitely something going on, Harry decided. The last he’d seen of Louis, he was running away from Harry as fast as he could, and Harry was sure Louis would never look him in the eye again, therefore he wasn’t to blame for being suspicious when Louis just showed up out of nowhere, acting as if nothing happened.

If that was his plan, Harry thought, then he’d be in for a very rude awakening. He would not let Louis shove him back into that tight, invisible rope that was their friendship.

However even as he thought all this, he knew there was something different, something more. It was in the way Louis was smiling at him, looking at him, expression vulnerable and tender.

Were those butterflies?

Feeling feverish, he turned back to his family, all of them smiling in a pleased way. Harry didn’t know what there was to be pleased about really. Louis’ visit was only serving to confuse him, all kinds of mixed thoughts running around in his head.

The fact that he was having Christmas dinner with his family and Louis, didn’t help much either. They had never spent Christmas together, always taking advantage of the holidays to go home and spend time with their families.

If there was one thing Harry had resented, was the fact that Louis’ birthday was on Christmas Eve, which meant he could never be there for his birthdays.

He hadn’t been expecting to be with Louis on his birthday this year either, especially considering the way things had been between them. So really, this situation he found himself in was quite surreal. 

There was an uneasy silence as everyone tucked into their food. Louis could see – as clearly as he would if they were real – the cogs turning inside Harry’s head. He sat quietly next to him, staring intensely at the plate full of food in front of him, though Louis suspected Harry hadn’t noticed it was there yet.

Harry could feel Louis’ eyes on him all throughout dinner, and it was stupid, so stupid, but he couldn’t help but feel it, that annoying little emotion that grew forbidden inside him. Hope was a powerful thing, and it was also one of the reasons why Harry kept coming back to Louis, every time, coming back for more, when he should’ve given up months ago.

He felt it again now, and it made him angry, but anger was never known to kill hope, and it didn’t now, so Harry hoped, hoped this time it would be different, and maybe he’d turned into a bit of a cynic, but Harry couldn’t help but mentally snort, thinking derisively of all the times he’s thought that exact same thing: that this time it’d be different.

It was a couple of hours later, when conversation slowed down, that they all started to gather the dishes, though Anne quickly told them not to bother with it.  
“Go on to bed” she said smiling, “you look tired, I’ll just put these in the dishwasher and I’m going too” she added once Louis and Harry started protesting, insisting they should help. 

They had yet to exchange a word to each other, and they made their way upstairs in awkward silence. Harry walked in first, quickly settling down in the middle of his bed and watching as Louis quietly shut the door behind him. It was his turn to be hesitant, and he walked forward slowly, eyes never leaving Harry’s as he sat down on the bed cross legged, mirroring Harry who watched him silently.

They faced each other still in silence, eyes flickering over each other’s features. Harry was sure that if he were to lick his lips, he’d be able to taste the tentativeness in the air.

Louis took in a quick breath, and with a burst of anticipations Harry leaned in, waiting to hear what he’d way.

But he didn’t say anything. Instead he let out the breath he just took in, lips closing once again.

The purse of Harry’s lips was not something he could control, and it was obvious to both of them that he was disappointed. The way Louis had been behaving all night had managed to plant that minuscule seed of hope that maybe this time, Louis had decided, that he really knew what he wanted. He thought maybe the push-and-pull game would be over, but, maybe not.

Harry sighed, disappointment oozing out of his every pore, “we should go to sleep” he said after a few more silent seconds.

He walked around the room, getting some blankets and pillows for Louis. He remembered back when they used to cuddle in bed together. When sleeping whole nights tangled up in each other was allowed. He also remembered when it stopped, a few weeks after Louis had started dating Eleanor. The process had been gradual, because sometimes she’d come over, or Louis would go sleep over wherever she was staying.

After a while it had stopped all together. Louis hadn’t really seem affected, as if the change didn’t actually change anything, didn’t really matter to him, but Harry could barely sleep for weeks, awake in the dark, want and hate and rejection pressing him down on the mattress until he felt he couldn’t breath.

He dropped the stuff down on the floor next to his bed, and sent Louis a look that had him quickly and awkwardly standing up from the bed. Harry got in then, tucking himself under his duvet, trying his hardest to ignore the presence of the boy in his bedroom.

He could feel Louis’ eyes on him even now, and it made goose bumps break out on his skin. He closed his eyes tightly and swallowed around the lump in his throat.  
“Can you turn off the lights?” he asked when he couldn’t take Louis’ eyes on him anymore.

Louis didn’t answer, but a second later the brightness behind his eyelids turned into black. He wished, throat stinging and eyes burning, that he wasn’t so aware of Louis, wished he couldn’t hear his footsteps on the floor, or the sound of him arranging himself in his blankets.

Most of all he wished, teeth biting down hard on his bottom lip, that he didn’t care. Caring hurt.

He turned into his side, facing away from Louis, and pretended he didn’t want to ask him to come up to bed with him. Pretended until he fell asleep and his dreams became reality.

*

It was bright when Louis opened his eyes in the morning. He realised with surprise that that heavy feeling in his stomach had left overnight, leaving only oddly fluttering feelings behind. He kneeled up on the floor taking a look at Harry, who was lazily spread out on his bed, duvet pushed aside, and god his legs were long, and his skin was pale and smooth, and his lips were parted slightly, eyelids fluttering, hair a mess, and he was beautiful.

He crawled over, leaning over the edge of the bed, shamelessly staring at the sleeping boy. His fingers itched, and he gave into himself, reaching out to slide a finger down his cheek, contouring his jaw, over the bump of his nose and the line of his eyebrow. Before long, he replaced fingers with lips. He brushed his lips across his cheek before placing a kiss just under his left eye.

It was Christmas, and he felt braver than he’s ever felt and it still didn’t feel like it was enough, but still, he reached out for Harry’s shoulder shaking him slightly, because he knew this was it, and he wouldn’t go back now.

“Harry” He whispered, breath catching as Harry’s eyes blinked open. Those green eyes had always been mesmerising, but he’d never felt so overwhelmed at the sight of them before.  
“Lou?” Harry croaked out, and yeah, his voice was beautiful too, but Louis had always known that, knew it before he knew what colour eyes Harry had.  
“Haz” he breathes out, leaning in before he could think of all the reasons he shouldn’t.  
He’d done this only once before, no matter what other people believed, and it was nerve wrecking and thrilling at the same time, and his fingers trembled while he brushed his lips against Harry’s, and he swore he could burst at any minute, because he had never felt so much, and he’d never felt so free. 

He didn’t keep his lips against Harry’s for very long, wanting so much, and wanting everything at the same time. He kept kissing Harry, all over his face, lips finding the places his fingers had touched earlier.   
“I love you” the words slipped out of his lips easier than he’d thought they would, “I love you, I love you” he repeated in between kisses, and it just felt natural now, after he’d said it once, to just keep saying it.

He caught a glimpse of Harry’s eyes, round with surprise, before he moved back to kiss his lips, nipping at his upper lip lightly, and then there was a hand gripping on to his shoulder tightly, and a shiver running down his spine. If felt a bit like he was falling.

He pressed his mouth harder into Harry’s, hands holding on to his face to stop him from moving away, Louis couldn’t have that now, now that he’d had a taste. It was stupid of him not realise before; Harry was everything.

When he pulled back, Harry’s lips were red, and he was looking at him like he did at sixteen.

Louis sighed, kissing him again.

They settled down a while later, laying in bed facing each other, legs tangled and fingers intertwined.  
“Lou?” Harry asked again, tone vulnerable and pleading, and Louis knew he owed him an explanation. Well he owed him a lot more than just that, but he’d get to it in time.  
“I broke it off with Eleanor” He thought that was the most important part maybe, so he started with that, hearing Harry’s sharp intake in response.  
“You did?”   
Louis nodded, it had been pretty sad. Louis was apparently a much better actor than he’d thought, because Eleanor had obviously never seen it coming.  
“I couldn’t, I couldn’t, not when I” he fumbled with his words for a second, “I don’t love her” he confessed, before taking a more desperate tone, “I want you Harry, and I want you to choose me” those were the most important things he needed Harry to know.  
“You… you want me to choose you?” he asked slowly, and Louis nodded frantically, his grip on Harry’s hands tightening at the thought of her.  
“I know, I know - I don’t have any right. Or that it might be hypocritical of me, or. I just, I’m sorry, I want, I want to be only one for you” he finished, eyes staring intensely into Harry’s. He couldn’t share him, wouldn’t. Harry was his.

Harry was nodding before Louis had even finished speaking, “yeah, yeah, Lou. ‘M not, ‘m not with her anymore” he mumbled quickly.  
Louis froze, leaning so close their noses bumped, “you’re not?” he swallowed.  
Harry shook his head, lips opening as if to say something, but Louis cuts him off before he could start, mouth crashing against his, hand sliding up to get lost in Harry’s messy hair, and tongue prying the younger’s lips open.  
“I love you” he pulled back to say breathlessly, watching with a crazy beating heart, as Harry’s lips stretched out into one of those slow, shy smiles of his.  
“Love you” he said back, and Louis pulled him back in, so that Harry’s head was tucked under his chin.  
Harry’s breath was warm on his neck, and Louis planted a kiss on top of his head.  
“I didn’t get you a present” Harry mumbled after a few minutes of comfortable silence.  
Louis smiled, “did too”, Harry shook his head at him, though Louis could feel he was smiling.  
“Cheesy Lou” he mumbled.  
“Yeah, well, It’s Christmas. I can be cheesy if I want too. Especially..” he trailed off, not sure how to put it so it wouldn’t sound really, really extremely cheesy.  
“What?” Harry looked up at him curiously.  
Louis shrugged, he couldn’t stop smiling even though he could feel his cheeks colouring “especially since I got you now” he finished his first thought, and yes, it was very sappy, but Harry’s eyes lit up at the words, and Louis thought that that made it worth it.  
“You do” Harry agreed, “I’ve been waiting you know?”  
Louis felt his heart clench painfully at the reminder, “Sorry” he apologised, but it didn’t feel like enough, it probably never would be.  
“It’s okay” Harry said, pecking his lips and moving closer, Louis arms moving around him to help until they were touching from face to foot, “we’re here now.”


End file.
